


He Woke Up Dead

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-15
Updated: 2007-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Submission for the March Poetry Challenge. Selected poem quote: - "Because I Could Not Stop For Death" by Emily DickinsonBecause I could not stop for Death --He kindly stopped for me --The Carriage held but just Ourselves --And Immortality.One night, Ron's life flashes before his eyes.





	He Woke Up Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

***Submission for the March Poetry Challenge. Using Emily Dickinson's poem "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" ***

 

Hope you all enjoy this...may need a hanky when reading, but read all the way to the end before you decide it is too sad for you. 

Thanks, 

Karen

* * *

**_Because I Could Not Stop for Death…_**  

The rain was pouring, though he could not feel it. He found that odd, considering he was lying in a field without any shelter. Slowly he rose to a sitting position, and stuck out his hand. The rain passed through it. That too was odd. Pulling himself to his feet, he surveyed the area. The field was sprawling and he was alone. This was not how it had been moments ago. Moments ago, he had been in a fight for his life, and he thought perhaps, he had been wounded.  

As if someone had tapped him on the shoulder, he whirled around. A strangled cry caught in his throat as he looked down and saw his body. Bloody, bruised, and nearly drowning under the downpour, he watched himself slip further and further into death’s permanent embrace. 

Falling to his knees, he screamed in anguish. There were things he needed to do, things he wanted to say, now he’d never get the chance. Frantically, he looked around for someone to help him, bring him back, save his life, but he was utterly alone.  

Suddenly, as if propelled by a large fan, fog coated the field, nearly obscuring his vision completely. Gripping panic set in and he stood quickly _. “Someone help me,”_ he whispered shakily. Immediately, he was sorry he’d asked, for a large cloaked figure appeared before him and he knew instantly _who_ it was.  

**_He Kindly Stopped for Me…_**  

He backed away on shaky legs. _“No, I…I’m not dead!”_  

_"Ronald Weasley.”_ A hollowed voice echoed from under the hood of the large cloak. Ron dropped to his knees, sobbing and pleading, but it was of no use. The dark being raised a long arm and a skeletal finger beckoned Ron to him.  

Though he did not want to go, though he shook his head, screamed and shouted that he would not follow Death, he found his body moving independently of his mind. The heavy fog swirled around them, coating them like cream.  

Ron did not like being dead, if this is what death was. He was frightened, and alone. Where were all his loved ones, his friends and family that had gone before him? Is this what Dumbledore saw? Sirius, George, Percy, Dean? All those people, where were they? Shouldn’t they be here, helping him through this? _Someone has to tell my family where I am._ _Hermione will be so worried._ Hermione…he began to weep.  

A black carriage appeared before them and Ron hesitated, but again, it was as if he had been taken over. Though his body was still in the field, this ghostly imprint of himself was not at all obedient to his desires. He stepped inside and took a seat.  

**_The Carriage Held but Just Ourselves…_ **

Shrouded in darkness, Ron was grateful; he did not want to look at the haunted figure. Part of him hoped this was a sick joke. The clichéd cloaked skeleton, the misty fog, the ominous atmosphere, but how did they make him transparent? Ron swallowed…this was not a joke.  

The carriage gave a mighty lurch, and Ron was forced backward into the cushiony seat. Suddenly the door opened. Apparently, the ride to the afterlife was instantaneous. As the light from outside flooded the small cabin, Ron was instantly filled with relief. Light was good, light was… _heaven_. 

Upon exiting the carriage, Ron soon found that the light was not from any higher kingdom, it was the glow of a roaring fire. As the mist vanished, Ron could see the naked forms of two bodies in the throes of passion. Moving closer, he realized it was him and Hermione, making love by the fire.  

“ _This…this was our first time,”_ whispered Ron, with a bit of a question in his tone. He remembered that night as if it was yesterday. Hermione’s moans resonated in the room like an echoed vision from a pensieve. Ron looked over at Death _._

_“Is this heaven or hell? Is this what it’s like to die? You relive the most pleasurable moments of your life?”_ he asked, but got no response. Ron could see how this could possibly be heaven sent for some, even for him. Unfortunately, he was not feeling pleasure from witnessing this. He was not even feeling aroused. This vision only sparked sadness, regret and fear. He would never feel this again. Never know the encompassing ecstasy it was to be nestled deep inside Hermione’s warmth. 

Why was he being shown this?  _“Why have you brought me here?”_ asked Ron, glaring at the hooded being. It simply pointed. Ron looked back at the two moaning people and wanted to weep again. Hermione’s legs cradled Ron’s hips as he rocked and thrust deep within her. From this vantage point, he was given a view he had not been privy to during the actual event. As his head was buried into her neck, Hermione’s eyes were screwed up tight and her mouth was opened in a silent scream. She was in pain, but the manner in which she was clutching Ron’s buttocks indicated that she was in _pleasure_ as well.  

Ron looked to the dark figure once more, only to have it point again. Turning his attention back to his younger self, he was just in time to see the explosive orgasm they both had. As they became sated, and Ron snuggled up behind Hermione, she moaned and whispered, _“Don’t ever leave me.”_  

_“Never.”_ Ron heard himself moan. With a burning glare and a lump caught in his throat, Ron rounded on the shadowy form.  

_“Why are you showing me this? Is this some form of punishment? What have I done to deserve seeing myself promise never to leave the only woman I’ve ever loved, when it is certain that I have left her?”_ he screamed, yet Death remained silent.  

Suddenly the room filled with the foggy mist, and Ron found himself stepping into the carriage before he’d even taken notice of his actions. Silently, he wiped the single tear that fell from his eye. He was not at all thrilled with death, thus far. This was utter torture. What if this was how he was going to spend eternity, revisiting the most pleasurable experiences in his life, knowing that he’d never have them again? It was settled…he was in hell. However, it was obvious that there was something he needed to do, needed to learn, as a right a passage perhaps. 

With another lurch, the carriage door opened and Ron wished he could run away from the scene before him. Most people would love to see their wedding day over and over again, but this was killing him. Standing right beside himself, Ron looked at Hermione's angelic face as she gazed up at him. Her love for him shone brightly on her face, and it nearly brought Ron to his knees, both of them. 

_“I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, promise to love you, honor you, and respect you. I promise to always value your opinions, trust your instincts, and put you above all things in this world.”_   A tear slipped from both Rons’ eye. The one standing before Hermione, holding her hands, was probably moved because he truly meant those words. The one standing with Death was sorry that he hadn’t kept to that promise, and now he’d never get the chance to do so. The fog came.  

_“_ _Wait!”_ Ron shouted with a sniff _. “I want to hear her, please!”_ he whinged, but Death took no heed. They were in the carriage again. It lurched to a halt and Ron simply stepped out the door without hesitation this time. If this was to be his penance, then he had best get it over with. Unfortunately, the scene that he was standing before was the last thing he wanted to see.  

Death was showing him two years after his wedding. A deserted alley, or so it seemed, Ron watched himself hunkered down in the corner, well cloaked. He had been sent on a mission, and it had been dangerous, very dangerous.  

As Ron watched himself, he could feel the fear coursing through his veins as if it was happening all over again. He tried to close his eyes against what was about to happen, but he truly had no control over his body in this state.  

Even watching from this point of view, the next few seconds went by in a blur, and before Ron knew what had happened, he had watched himself kill a Muggle man. Then he had watched himself become violently ill. He watched himself be questioned by the Chief Auror, and shortly thereafter he watched himself totally break down in a dark corner with Harry standing guard in a consolatory fashion. 

_“What are you doing to me?”_ Ron turned to the dark creature, with a tear stained face. _“Why show me this? Don’t you think I’ve relived it enough in my nightmares?”_ He sniffed loudly. _“I didn’t know he was a Muggle!”_ Ron screamed, but got no reaction from Death. _“I was only trying to disarm him! I didn’t know that mobile thing in his hand wasn’t a weapon! It all happened so quickly! I didn’t mean to send him crashing into that building! I_ _DIDN’T MEAN IT!”_ wailed Ron, through a raw scratchy throat, but the fog was coming again, and Ron knew that he had to move on.  

_“I_ _don’t understand any of this,”_ wheezed Ron, as he stepped into the carriage. _“I don’t know what you want me to do. Why are you showing me this?”_ he asked, but the carriage lurched and they were stepping out again.  

This time, Ron fully recognized the surroundings, for it was the home he currently shared with Hermione. A movement to his right caught his attention and he saw Hermione pacing in the kitchen. She was wearing the same outfit she had been wearing that morning when he’d left for the mission that currently had him lying in that field. This was today.  

Fear gripped her face as she paced back and fourth wringing her hands frantically. Suddenly, the fireplace erupted in a green whoosh, as Harry Flooed in. Hermione raced to him and embraced him fiercely. Harry held her with strong arms as she whimpered into his chest. Ron swallowed hard, he never could stand to watch Hermione upset like this. 

_“Please Harry, you’ve got to find him!”_ she moaned. _“He went out this morning and he…he hasn’t come back!”_  

_“Maybe he’s just late,”_ said Harry, but Hermione was already shaking her head.  

_“He’s not! Something is wrong! I can feel it!”_ She clutched her stomach. _“I can’t explain it, but something has happened to him, I know it in my heart!”_ Harry looked panicked.  

_“Hermione, you know I’m not privy to his assignments any longer. Since Ron joined that special unit, his assignments are highly classified.”_  

_“I know Harry, but if ever you had to pull the “Harry Potter” card, please let it be for this. They will tell you.”_ Harry nodded, but still seemed apprehensive.  

_“For fuck’s sake, Harry! LOOK FOR ME!”_ Ron shouted, but there was no indication that either Harry or Hermione had heard him.  

_“Ron has been out of his mind ever since that incident with the Muggle and now it’s like…like he needs to save the world to make up for that one mistake,”_ said Harry, sadly. 

_“I know Harry, and God knows I miss him being here with me, but I can’t live without him…and…and if something has happened to him…I…”_ she stopped, unable to speak through her weeping.  

_“I’ll find him,”_ said Harry, as he took Hermione into his arms again.  

With her face muffled into his chest, Hermione said, _“You must, Harry. I’m…I’m pregnant and he has to know.”_  

_“What?”_ Ron and Harry spoke in unison. She nodded, still in his chest, then she pulled back and looked Harry in the eyes. 

_“You must find him. I need him.”_  

Ron collapsed to his knees with a sickly groan. _“Please,”_ he begged. _“Please don’t show me anymore. Just let me die, let me be dead and gone. I can’t take anymore,”_ he sobbed, but the fog was coming.  

_“NO! Wait! Please, I need to talk to her!”_ Ron lunged toward Hermione, but before he could reach her, the carriage was before him.  

_“_ _I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE!”_ he screamed, and made to grab a handful of the misty old cloak shrouding Death from his view, but the moment his hands touched it, they sizzled like morning sausages and Ron snatched his hands away quickly. He was panting as he stepped in the carriage. With his anger building but having no outlet, Ron simply shut his eyes and let the tears flow. Another lurch and the cabin door swung open. 

_“Please,”_ sighed Ron, exhaustedly. _“I can’t bear anymore.”_ Again his body moved him out of carriage.  

Now, he was standing in front of a door in a home he had never seen before. As his mouth opened to question it, the door swung open and Ron nearly ripped his eyes out against the sight before him. Hermione was in the midst of a quiet lovemaking session as another man lay on top of her, grinding, pumping, and sweating.  

Ron was numb. He couldn’t close his eyes, try as he might, and he couldn’t muster the strength to cry out, to ask why he was seeing this, or to flee, and he wanted to do all those things desperately. Though he did not want to witness this, he couldn’t help but notice that this man was not very skilled at pleasing Hermione. She was extremely quiet and had a concentrated look on her face. Her eyes were screwed shut and she whispered something just as her body relaxed.  

With a chaste kiss to this other man’s lips, Hermione moved from under him, grabbed her dressing gown and walked right through Ron. He watched as she went to a room down the hall. He assumed that the fog would come, but Death pointed a gnarled finger, and Ron followed Hermione.  

When he found her, she was bent over a sleeping child that looked to be seven or eight. A boy with a thick mop of curly red hair, slept soundly under a Chudley Cannons blanket. He looked exactly as Ron did at that age. A single tear slipped from Ron’s weary eye as he watched Hermione kiss the child on his forehead without waking him.  

_“I love you, Ronnie,”_ whispered Hermione, and kissed the boy again.  

Suddenly, she rushed from the room and flew down the hall, Ron on her heels. Hermione flung herself into the bathroom and quickly closed the door, then snatched a towel off the rack and buried her face in it. A muffled scream ripped from her throat as she sank to the floor. Ron dropped to his knees before her, aching to pull her into his arms.  

_“Why?”_ she screamed. _“Why did you leave us?”_  

_“I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry!”_ whimpered Ron. He gave a visible jolt as Hermione pulled the towel away from her face and looked right at him. Her red puffy eyes bore into him, though he knew she could not see him. He wanted to thumb the tears from her cheeks as he always did.  

_“It’s all I can do to hang on,”_ sniffed Hermione. _“If it weren’t for Ronnie, I’d have…”_ she looked down, sadly.  

_“Don’t say it Hermione,”_ whinged Ron. _“I know I messed up, I know for the last year of my life I was hardly there for you…for us. I can’t explain it…but…after I…I…killed that Muggle…”_ breathed Ron . 

 

_“His name was John…John Livingston. He had two children, Meghan and Oliver, his wife’s name is Sarah. They were happy until I ruined their life and…and I guess I felt that I didn’t deserve a happy life when I had single-handedly destroyed someone else’s.”_ Ron was rambling now and he knew she could not hear him, but he couldn’t stop the flow that was coming from him. 

_“I see now how I’ve robbed you and me and even our child of a life…and making us miserable did nothing to bring John back to his family. I wish—”_  

Just then, the bathroom door swung open and swept through Ron’s transparent body. He and Hermione both looked up into the face of her _husband_. He looked sad as he gazed down at a wife who obviously did not love him.  

_“You did it again,”_ whispered this anonymous man, and Ron had no desire to know his name or commit his face to memory. Hermione simply gaped at him. _“You said his name…when…you...”_ The words seemed stuck in his throat. 

_“I’m sorry,”_ said Hermione, tearfully. _“I can’t help it. He was my soul mate and he’s gone and I’ll never see him again,”_ she choked. 

_“He’s not gone! He’s present in every look you give me, every half-hearted kiss, every joke you make that I don’t get, he’s everywhere!”_ The man sighed deeply, and seemed to soften. _“He’s down the hall fast asleep, Hermione. He lives on in his child…don’t you see? Children give us immortality.”_ He shook his head wearily. _“You have to stop. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”_ Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but the fog came.

_“NO! WAIT! I need to hear this, PLEASE!”_ screamed Ron, but it was of no use. _“I need to tell her that I’m sorry, I need her to hear it! I need to make it right! Please!”_ he wailed, but his body was being whisked away. 

This was it, Ron thought. No carriage, no hooded figure, only the feeling of floating and then darkness. A tingling sensation was felt at his belly, and then something warm and thick was sliding down his throat. Slowly he opened his eyes and a misty-eyed Harry was leaning over him.  

“Ron! Can you hear me?” shouted Harry.  

“ _Harry?_ ” moaned Ron.  

“Thank God!” whimpered Harry, as he gripped Ron with terror etched into his features. Ron reached down and touched his stomach where he knew there was a deep and fatal wound, but it was gone, though it was still very painful. The rain was still pouring and Ron was shivering violently.  

“Hang on,” said Harry, and he clutched Ron to him. “You’ve got to stop this! I beg you! You’ve got to stop!” he shouted, as he Apparated them to the bedroom of Ron and Hermione’s home. They landed on the bed and Ron simply collapsed back onto the fluffy pillows the moment Harry let him go.  

“HERMIONE!” screamed Harry, and seconds later, loud footsteps could be heard pounding down the hall. She flew in the room and fairly threw herself onto the bed.  

“RON!” she wailed.  

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…I’m so…” he was too exhausted to continue his chant. Tears were streaming from his eyes now as were they from Hermione’s _and_ Harry’s.  

“I…I healed the wound and gave him a blood replenishing potion, but he should really be at St. Mungo’s, this was just the first place I thought of…” Harry trailed off sadly, wiping his face quickly.  

“No, wait, please…just let me lay here for a moment,” said Ron, and he weakly pulled Hermione to him. She immediately wrapped herself around him as Harry left the room to notify the proper people that Ron had been located.  

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” he moaned. “I didn’t mean to leave you, to make you so sad…” Hermione looked up at him with confused watery eyes, but before she could speak, Ron talked over her.  

“Everything will be different from now on. I’ll be here, I’ll…I’ll talk to you about the…Mugg…John, I should always call him by his name… _John Livingston_ …I’ll quit my job if you want…I’ll be here to _live_ life…” Ron was rambling now, and Hermione was gaping at him in total confusion, but she seemed nearly giddy that he was there with her. His hands caressed her constantly, grateful to be corporeal and alive.  

“I don’t ever want to leave you again, Hermione, but if…if I ever do, there won’t be anything left unsaid. I’ll tell you every day what you mean to me! I’ll sing it if you want me to!” She gave a teary giggle, still looking rather confused by it all. 

“And if one day something does happen to me, don’t ever feel like I’ve abandoned you be…because…we live on forever in our children…” His hand slipped down to her flat stomach and Hermione’s eyes went round with realization and surprise.  

**_And Immortality…_**  

She squeezed him to her and Ron sighed deeply, with a new found purpose. He would live his life to the fullest and when he could no longer, then his children, and his children’s children would continue to live for him.      

 

 

**~ The End~**


End file.
